


Veronica Mars Is Smarter Than Buffy Season 7

by theoreticalfic



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Jossverse, Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: Crossover, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-18
Updated: 2012-12-18
Packaged: 2017-11-21 11:52:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/597448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoreticalfic/pseuds/theoreticalfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I joked that Veronica Mars should have been a potential slayer and solved all of the problems I had with Buffy season 7. Then I knew I had to write it. Also I was in the middle of a serious Felicia Day obsession, so I ended up shipping Veronica/Vi.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Veronica Mars Is Smarter Than Buffy Season 7

You're in a new, unfamiliar town, in an unfamiliar house with a whole lot of other girls and a few guys. Everyone's a total stranger. 

Oh, and apparently vampires are real and you're one of various other girls who might be next to be chosen to be the vampire slayer who gets to save the world from the apocalypse. 

So, there's that.

All things considered, you think you are handling things pretty well. 

You're Veronica fucking Mars, after all. 

\--- 

i. 

Your main source of information is one of the few males in the house, Andrew Wells, a nerdy kid who won't put away his video camera and insists on calling Buffy the "Slayer of the VamPYRES," which just makes the whole thing sound ridiculous. 

You smile to yourself. _Like this isn't ridiculous anyway. Look at you, Veronica Mars. Life wasn't weird enough already, now you're a potental vampire slayer._

Andrew is not a credible source of information, but he sure seems to enjoy imparting information, regardless of its veracity, so you think of him as a sort of Wikipedia, not exactly believing anything he says. 

He's full of ridiculously boyish enthusiasm for everything, and he immediately starts explaining the whole Slayer thing. "First I really should tell you all about the original vampire slaying gang. Buffy, Willow, Xander, and Mr. Giles. They’re like the Big Four of _Star Wars_. You know, Luke, Leia, Han, and Chewie." 

You consider Buffy, Willow, Xander, and Giles, and mentally place each of them -- Buffy Skywalker, dashing hero with a lightsaber stake. Willow -- _why does she look familiar_ \-- her red hair in cinammon buns, laser blaster in hand. Xander as the dashing Han Solo, that stupid grin on his face, and Giles -- _oh, eww_. You try to stop before the Giles-as-Wookiee mental picture finishes downloading in your brain, but it's too late, and you cringe. 

Andrew seems equally lost in thought, and you suspect he is probably thinking along the same lines. Another potential slayer coughs loudly. 

"Sorry," Andrew says, and begins his tale of Buffy, Slayer of the VamPYRES. 

\--- 

ii. 

You are pretty good at reading people, what with the whole private investigator thing. This is your impression of Buffy Summers, _the_ Vampire Slayer. 

As the leader of the whole Slayer thing, Buffy can be a real bitch. She judges all the potential Slayers, makes them train for hours, calls them out on every mistake, reminds them that if they screw up, the entire world could end. 

But you can't hate her, not like you hated everyone at Neptune, no -- Buffy Summers just wants to be a normal girl. You can tell it's not the slaying that bothers her, it's the leadership thing. 

You hear all sorts of things whispered about Buffy Summers. You know what that's like, so you try not to put too much stock into any of the stories, though you can't help but wonder. 

_For someone that's supposed to be killing vampires, Buffy sure has fucked a lot of them._ That one you're pretty sure is made up. You are pretty sure Andrew made up both Angel and Spike. They sound like _his_ fantasies more than anything. You laugh at that. 

_Buffy's sister, Dawn, isn't her real sister. She's not even a real person. She's some sort of magical construct._ You hear this and decide immediately not to give a shit. Blood has nothing to do with family. 

Buffy Summers died, for real, twice. Given that vampires are real, and so are other demons and hellbeasts that come from other dimensions, you decide that this rumor is entirely plausible. It would explain a lot. 

A sudden thought comes to mind: _It's not fair. Lilly didn't get to come back, and Buffy came back twice._ You try to push it aside, but it keeps coming back. 

\--- 

iii. 

There's actually another vampire slayer, named Faith. You assumed that the next slayer came because Buffy died, but it turns out there's a bigger story there with another slayer somewhere in between, and also the second time she died, it didn't count for some reason, so there's no third slayer. You process that knowledge numbly. For another slayer to be called, the current one has to die. 

_Sometimes, people have to die._

Faith does not seem to bear the burden that Buffy does, but there's a different kind of pain she's hiding, and the whispers about _her_ \-- slut, murderer, wanted felon -- 

Faith admits to these things without much outward emotion, and doesn't try to rationalize it away. "I fucked up," she says softly, then adds, "but, y'know, I'm on your side now, so whatever." 

You are pretty sure she is in love with Buffy. Your gaydar's pretty good, not that you're -- well, that thing with Mac, and you just might have been in love with Lilly-- 

No. You can't think about these things. There's an apocalypse coming. 

\--- 

iv. 

The other potential slayers are a pretty diverse bunch, but the whole thing just feels like Neptune High all over again. Not that these girls _hate_ you -- maybe Kennedy does, she seems to hate everyone -- but you are pretty sure you don't fit in. 

You don't see this as an adventure, or something amazing, being a potential slayer. It's just another stupid, shitty thing that happened to you, and now you have to deal with it. 

So you do it. You sit in the corner by a trash can, whittling a stake. You trade quips with the other potentials, with Dawn, with Andrew, with Anya, with Xander. You rarely talk to Buffy herself, but it seems like no one does. 

Kennedy enters the room, grumbling. "God _damn_ it, what a bitch," she says. 

"I'm gonna take a crazy wild guess... Buffy?" You smirk, wondering what exactly Buffy did to piss her off this time. 

"Won't let me go patrolling with her. Says I'm not ready. Like hell, I'm more ready than most of you goddamn little--" She pauses but does not quite look embarrassed. She is definitely not sorry. 

"Why stop there? I've gotten so much worse," you say. You continue whittling, enjoying the feel of the knife in your hand, though you know that your little Swiss Army knife isn't actually going to intimidate her. Still, it's kind of fun. 

"I'm just saying it's stupid sitting on our fucking asses all day training when we could be out there killing actual vampires." 

You smile widely. "So no vampire staking for you tonight. That's too bad. I guess you really must love the feel of wood in your hands." You toss her the stake. "Gosh. Here I thought you were a lesbian." 

Still smiling, you leave the room, folding your knife up and slipping it into your pocket. 

\--- 

v. 

Xander seems to notice just about everything because he's the "normal guy," but he doesn't notice _everything_ everything because he's not Veronica Mars. 

And so it occurs to you that if the world really might end, there are some things that should really be done, and done quickly. 

And damned if you don't know how to get shit done. 

Andrew tries to make a video documentary about Buffy and the rest of the gang. Everyone seems to hate it, and you sort of agree, but you help him edit the footage together anyway. You do not tell him about your past, and he thankfully does not make up any stories about it. He doesn't much care about you anyway, but you don't mind. It's kind of refreshing, actually. 

Andrew interviews Xander and Anya, and it is clear that they still love each other. You slip each of them an anonymous note later that day, reminding them that the world might end soon. You're pretty sure they end up in bed together that night. 

You slip an anonymous note into a pack of Faith's cigarettes that just says "you should tell Buffy how you feel." 

Again, you're pretty sure they end up in bed. 

You see Willow's quiet suffering, and from what you've been able to gather from the rumor mill, it's grief over Tara's death and guilt over Warren's. You approach Willow, casually mentioning that she sort of reminds you of someone you knew -- Trina Echolls -- and Kennedy very loudly accuses you of hitting on her girl, and you're honestly too confused to come up with a clever retort. 

You decide not to pursue that particular case. 

Oh, and someone suggests that Giles is dead, and he's been appearing as a ghost of the First. You roll your eyes, sure that someone must have touched him or seen him touching something, but to mollify the rest of the paranoid potentials, you march up to Giles one day and poke him on the nose, much to his confusion and your amusement. 

That's how Veronica Mars gets shit done. 

\--- 

vi. 

"Hey." 

You look at the redhead and give her a smile. "Hey yourself. God, I'm sorry, I don't remember--" 

"I'm Violet. Vi. I don't actually remember your name either." 

"Veronica Mars," you say, offering a handshake. 

She takes it. "Hey, our names. Both start with V," she says awkwardly, and you, equally awkwardly, agree. 

You become friends. 

\--- 

vii. 

You like your privacy. One thing about being a super sleuth, you get kinda paranoid that other people could be watching you just as easily and closely as you watch them. 

Moving in to a stranger's house with dozens of other girls and a few guys does not mesh with your idea of privacy at all. Plus, you're pretty sure it's a fire hazard. Maximum occupancy or something. 

With the coming apocalypse, it was pretty easy to find a place. For convenience's sake, you got a place in the same building as Xander, but never really announced this fact, hoping no one would ask to move in with you to get away from everyone, which would totally defeat the purpose. 

You fall back on your bed with a sigh, a dull throbbing ache between your legs. 

Another reason for privacy. 

You slide your hand between your thighs and let your eyes drift shut. You do not mean to, but before you can decide on someone else, you think of Vi, her bright red hair, her awkward, shy smile, and you wonder what it would be like to kiss her. 

\--- 

viii. 

"You should come over some time, and we can just, you know, hang out," you offer suddenly, one day, and Vi looks around, confused. 

"Me?" 

"Yeah, you. Don't you get sick of everyone else? C'mon, we'll hang out." 

Vi looks around again, awkwardly. "You want to hang out with me?" She frowns. You think it's kind of adorable, actually. 

"Yeah. You're cool. You're not like the others." You do not add, _Plus Buffy seems to think this really might be the end of the world, and I would like to kiss you before we all die._

"I... yeah, I know, but they're so... into the slaying thing, and I don't think I'm even very good at it. I'd be a terrible vampire slayer." She looks down. 

"That's not the spirit at all," you say. "Come on. You'd kick _ass_ at it. That's the whole point of being a slayer, you know. Ass-kicking." You make fists and give the air a few jabs. 

Vi smiles in spite of herself, making fists of her own. "Okay. Ass-kicking." She frowns. "Wait, if we're ass- _kicking_ , why are we punching?" 

You pause as if to consider, and say, "An excellent point. Anyway, let's hang out. Tonight." 

Vi frowns again. "Where? There's not a lot of places -- and, I mean, we all live here..." 

"My place," you say, then wonder if that sounded too forward. It's not like you're actually asking her out. You're not hitting on her. You're just asking to hang out. Right? 

"You have a _place_? Of your own?" she says, clearly impressed. 

You smile a bit conspiratorially, and explain. 

\--- 

ix. 

"Do you really think the world's gonna end? We're all gonna... die?" 

You can't help but laugh. " _That's_ your idea of conversation?" you ask. 

"I'm sorry, I know, it's... I just... I'm scared. I don't think we can do it, and I don't know if Buffy knows that but won't tell us, or if she doesn't know it, and either way, it's..." Vi trails off. "Um, I mean, let's kick ass." She makes two small, rather pathetic fists. 

"I'm scared too," you admit. 

"You don't act like it. You're so... cool about everything." 

You shrug. "That's how I am," you say, wondering why you are admitting this. "We all do it. Even Faith's freaking out, but she'll never admit it. But I can tell. I can sorta read people. I used to be kind of into detective stuff before the vampire slaying thing." 

"That's pretty cool. I didn't do anything interesting." 

"That sounds _great_ ," you say, quite honestly. 

\--- 

x. 

You are not quite sure how you actually ended up kissing Vi, but at least you didn't have to resort to "the world might end soon, so we might as well." 

You are not sure who initiated things, not that it matters. Her lips are pressed against yours, and neither of you seem to mind. 

She is tentative at first, awkward, as you expected, her hands finding their way into your hair clumsily, but to your surprise she's the one who parts her lips first, running her tongue over yours. You think you moan in the back of your throat, but you're not quite sure of anything except that right now Vi is kissing you and it's better than you imagined. 

\--- 

xi. 

The ache between your thighs is almost unbearable, but you aren't sure how to progress from here. With Mac it had been deliberate and slow, and right now, you're not entirely sure... 

But you don't need to worry about it. Vi's awkward shyness has given way to something else entirely, and she's pushed you back on the bed, climbing on top of you. She kisses you again, sucks on your bottom lip, pulling it, running her tongue over it, then lets go, kissing the corner of your mouth and moving downward with soft kisses until she's kissing your neck, licking, biting... 

Vi's hands find your belt buckle and for a moment she's all awkwardness again as she fumbles with it, then stops entirely. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't -- I mean -- I --" 

"No, don't stop," you say, and your hands rush to your pants to undo the belt, button and zipper as quickly as you can manage. You want to slide your pants all the way off but you can't. Vi's hand is already between your legs. She takes her other hand and pulls your pants and underwear off, but you barely notice. You just know you want her. 

"Oh," you manage, your back arching. You want her, and you don't even remember that the apocalypse is coming anymore, all you know is that you want her right now. You can't think of anything else. She's touching you and you don't want her to stop. 

"Are you sure?" Vi whispers, still teasing you with light touches. "We don't have to if you don't--" 

" _Shut up and fuck me_ ," you manage, and she smiles. It's a sly, sexy smile, no trace of shyness left. She slides a finger inside you, and it's enough to get you to cry out. 

_Fuck, that's good, fuck, fuck, that's good_ , you think, or maybe you are moaning it out loud. You don't know. She takes her other hand and pushes up your shirt and sports bra, kissing your breasts, running her tongue over your body. 

"Don't stop," you say, and you only know you've said it out loud coherently because she replies: 

"I won't." Vi kisses her way down your body until her tongue is flicking against your clit, and she slides in a second finger. You grab at fistfuls of red hair as she licks, sucks, softly bites -- 

"Fuck, please, please, faster, more, I want you, I want more of you, please, fuck, _fuck_ ," you moan, or words to that effect. She complies, and your cries of "please" turn into "oh, oh yes, that's it, that's _it_." You're not sure how many fingers she's fucking you with at this point but you don't care, as long as it doesn't stop. 

You cry out as she stops tasting you, but you don't mind, you barely notice. She's sucking on one nipple and pinching the other with her free hand, and you pull her face towards yours and kiss her, though you are not sure you remember how to kiss. You're-- 

_fuck, fuck, that's it, please, fuck, don't stop, fuck, that's it, that's perfect, right there, fuck, oh, oh, yes, that's it, FUCK_

Your eyes are still closed as you feel her fingers slide out of you as you come. Her body collapses on top of yours, and you think to yourself that you don't really ever want to move. Right now is perfect. 

\--- 

xii. 

You're not sure how long you stayed like that, but eventually you rolled on top of Vi, pulled your shirt and bra the rest of the way off, and said, "My turn." 

She looks up at you as you work at removing her clothing, and she breathes, "Veronica Mars, you're so fucking beautiful." 

You blush, and as you pull Vi's shirt off over her head, you say, "So are you, you know." You look down at her. _Definitely._

She tries to look away from you, which proves difficult since you're on top of her and naked and let's face it, that's hard not to look at. You kiss her briefly before she can say anything. "You are." 

She doesn't argue, and so you turn your efforts towards removing her pants. 

\--- 

xiii. 

You became a vampire slayer along with all the other potentials. You are covered in blood, dirt, and vampire dust, but you're alive, and the world hasn't ended. 

So, there's that. 

Most of the others are exhausted, but Vi's all energy and confidence now, running up and down the aisles, checking on the wounded. She finally sits down next to you, and she rests her head on your shoulder though you can tell she's still restless. You smile and kiss her forehead. 

The bus is speeding out of Sunnydale, and Faith's panicking. "Where's Buffy? Where the hell is Buffy? You didn't fucking leave her back there, did you?" 

There's a thud on the roof of the bus, and you smile and point up. "Bet that's her." 

Faith smiles a real smile, and you can't help but smile too. 

She says, "Thanks, V." 

"For what?" you ask innocently. 

The bus stops outside of Sunnydale and Buffy jumps down from the roof to join everyone else. Faith embraces her and kisses her deeply, and Xander is too full of the thrill of having saved the world to comment. 

You look over the crater that was once Sunnydale, California. 

You helped save the world. You got the girl. 

You kind of fucking rock.

You hear Dawn asking Buffy what they're all going to do now, and as Buffy just smiles, you realize that for once, there doesn't have to be an answer.

\---

END.


End file.
